


Something Ugly Like Goodbyes

by hungrytiger11 (hungrytiger)



Series: A Rose Bloomed [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-30
Updated: 2009-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hungrytiger/pseuds/hungrytiger11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody makes mistakes sometimes. Even a father like Yamanaka Inoichi can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Ugly Like Goodbyes

The dead silence that filled the Nara main room in wake of the Yamanakas' departure was a little oppressive, and Shikaku couldn't tell if it was because they were all just missing Ino-chan's chatter, or if everything just seemed quieter now that his wife was no longer screaming.

When the ruckus had first started up, he'd hightailed it out of the house with the two little ones in tow. It was one thing to man up and stay while your wife was yelling at your really stupid friend. It was another to let little kids hear fighting. Especially since Ino-chan would have thought it was all her fault, when it wasn't, really. Wasn't anyone's fault, really. Inoishi was just still aching from loneliness, and trying to find any way he could to fill it up the hole in his heart, whether it was drinking with buddies, burying himself in long-term mission work, or dating anything with two X-chromosomes. A man could stand many things, but Shikaku didn't know how he'd suffer through losing Yoshino, so it was hard begrudge Inoishi aching for his dead wife. It was just, as Yoshino had commented to him often enough, not having a mother was hard. Not having a father around too, even if he was bodily there in front of you, was even harder. So, just this once, he'd let Yoshino get away with railing at his friend, and merely took the children away.

He'd let them go at one another for an hour and half before finally breaking the pair up. Yoshino yelled at you if she loved you; letting you know you were acting dumb was how she showed she cared. Still, most of what she said likely fell on deaf ears. Call it gut instinct, but he'd guessed Inoishi had not been in the mood for that sort of affection. So Shikaku'd let them go just enough to get this fight out of Yoshino's system before returning home and unleashing the five year olds back upon them. Fortunately, both adults had stopped when the small pair launched back into the room (well, more accurately, when Ino had launched back into the room, dragging Shikamaru behind). Unfortunately, with only a terse 'bye,' Inoishi had scooped up his offspring and headed for the door.

And now here they were, watching the Yamanakas walk down the darkened street away from the Nara household, which was now one less resident than before. Ino was going home. Shikaku sighed a little. He wasn't sure when the two blondes would be back. Wasn't gonna be anytime soon, unless he very much missed his guess. Some pretty hard words had been spoken, and Inoishi wasn't one to forgive or forget easily. Which was too bad. He had a feeling they were all going to miss the girl, but still, it was good to have father and daughter reunited. Inoishi would get over it. Eventually.

 

"She doesn't remember her room."

The tone was low and even, but Shikaku thought he knew his son well enough to sense the underlying worry. Yoshino turned to look at the boy, dark, heavy hair falling over her shoulder. Meanwhile, through the window, he could see his friend scoop up his daughter and take to the rooftops.

"Shikamaru, what are you doing?"

At these words, Shikaku turned. That was not a usual question. His son was normally so lazy. He didn't bother getting into trouble- too much trouble to get back out of it again.

 

"She wanted to stay here," the little boy continued on, ignoring his mother's dangerous tone.

"That vase was a gift from my grandmother. If you break it, young man, you are going to be in. Very. Big. Trouble."

She took quick steps towards the sink and their son, who was trying to lift the too-full glass vase out from under the faucet. It was a sign of how distracted both had been that Shikamaru had even managed to get into the cupboard without their noticing, let alone take anything out. Yoshino's fingers closed around the slippery neck, pulling it down, as Shikamaru lifted up, and both fumbled. Water sloshed out, drenching them. The vase hit the metallic sink with a high-pitched cracking sound.

"Don't move," Shikaku's voice rang out across the room. Yoshino grabbed their son's shoulders to steady herself and stop him from touching any glass. With a few long strides, Shikaku crossed the room and was through the kitchen doors. He grabbed the broom and dustpan from the pantry and started sweeping up the shattered glass on the floor.

Without lifting his eyes from his work, he began to question his son, "What were you doing with this vase, Shikamaru? You know you aren't suppose to touch your mother's things in the kitchen."

Shikamaru struggled against Yoshino's iron grip on his shoulders. Beady eyes glared up at Shikaku when he turned to wait for his son's answer.

"She didn't want to go."

The intensity was unusual from his son, and his face had a look of anger rather than the more common one of annoyance. Still, hurt or not by the girl's departure, that did not give him leave to start acting up. The very fact that it was he, and not his mother, who was questioning him, should have alerted Shikamaru to the amount of trouble he was in.

"I didn't ask," Shikaku continued slowly. "What Ino-chan wanted. I asked what you were doing with this vase, Shikamaru."

The boy mumbled something and made an aborted gesture with his arms. The movement caused a rustling noise that attracted Shikaku's attention though, and he glanced down. Shikamaru's arms were covered in scratches that he guessed the boy had somehow gotten when he took the kids out to the deer field. The dark must have disguised them on the walk home. He wondered vaguely, if Ino-chan was sporting scratches too. In his son's hands was a clump of flowers, or possibly, weeds.

Suddenly, things were starting to click. Wasn't any use in having the Nara brains, if you weren't going to use them, Shikaku chided himself. Still, it was always nice to get confirmation on a theory before acting on it. Trying a different approach, Shikaku knelt down, to look eye to eye with his son. In a much calmer voice he asked, "What's in your hands?"

Above him, he could feel Yoshino's eyes on them, as she looked down to see what her husband was referring too. Shikamaru must have felt them too, because after a moment he lifted up his hand to give her a clearer view. A second look revealed the flowers to be mostly roses, the wild ones that grew out on the field unless he was very much mistaken. The thorny stems his son was very carefully gripping even now, was probably what had given him those scratches.

"These are for Mom. Well, and you too, I guess, Dad. She didn't say," Shikamaru looked up at them. "They're from Ino. A thank you gift."

"Oh," Yoshino's voice was strangely tight, as if startled to be reminded of the little girl she'd been worrying about all evening. " That was very sweet of her-"

Shikamaru cut her off.

"Wasn't sweet. They're ugly."

Yoshino's hands dropped off her son's shoulders and snatched the roses out of his hands. "Shikamaru, that's not very nice."

"Well, they are. They mean…. Something. Something not nice. Ugly. Like good byes."

"Like good-byes?" Yoshino asked, confused.

"She had flowers like these when I picked her up. Said they were sad, and that her Dad wouldn't sell them 'cause of that."

Yoshino made a soft sound in the back of her throat and knelt down too, lightly gripping Shikamaru's arms to turn him around to face her. "I don't think these were meant to make us sad, Shika-kun. I think Ino-chan would want them to make you smile."

Shikaku sighed. This night had too many ups and downs, and now here they were, all of them knelt down on a floor that might still have glass shards about. He pushed himself up, joints creaking as he did. A ninja's life was hard on the body.

"Shikamaru," he said. "She's a big girl, almost done with her first year of school. She'll be fine. Head up to bed."

Shikaku wasn't sure if his son was entirely convinced, but his face lost the intense look. He merely nodded and moved towards the stairs.

"Oh, and Shikamaru, you're almost done with your first year of school too."

This came out as a statement, not a question.

"That's old enough to start making up for your mistakes. I want you to come up with three ways you can earn money to pay your mother back the cost of that vase. Then she can decide which one would be best for you to do. Sound fair?"

His little face crumpled at the thought of so much work, but he nodded and turned around to climb the stairs.

Shikaku sighed, and turned back around to finish sweeping up glass. Kids these days. They were growing up too fast, both his son and little Ino-chan. He wondered if right now Inoishi was discovering just how much his little girl had changed in the year he'd been away. Of course, Shikaku reflected, he didn't even have the excuse of being away. Shikamaru was managing to surprise him, and he was around his son most of the time. It would be interesting to see what ideas he'd come up with to make up for the shattered vase. If his son was smart, something that earned a lot of money, but took little work. Yes, that sounded like Shikamaru all over.

Ah, well. He'd find out soon enough, that was for sure. This night had been troublesome enough. Time to call it quits.

"Coming to bed, soon?" he called over his shoulder, and was pleased to see Yoshino blush. He smiled a little at that pretty picture. Still had it in him after all these years. Okay, so maybe this night wasn't all bad after all. Dropping the contents of the dustpan into a bin, Shikaku followed his wife's swaying hips to the bedroom where maybe they could forget about this night.


End file.
